


Martha Stewart Without the Prison Record

by morganya



Category: Queer Eye for the Straight Guy RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-19
Updated: 2005-10-19
Packaged: 2017-10-10 13:12:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/100158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganya/pseuds/morganya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ted stresses. Thom does damage control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Martha Stewart Without the Prison Record

  
At the book launch, Ted clenched his speech between two fingers, like he thought it was going to blow away. He stood with his back to the windows, glancing back and forth occasionally, while Thom leaned against one of the pillars, as much to shield Ted from view as it was to keep himself from starting to obsess about the room. They'd decorated it as a hodgepodge between a home theater, an executive living room, and a library filled with Ted's book, and the combination of everything was distracting him. Servers floated through the crowd, linen napkins flowing in the breeze.

"So have you noticed that nobody else is wearing a suit?" Ted said.

"No, I saw somebody," Thom protested. "Um, what's his name. That guy. The TV guy."

"Well, I feel much better now."

"You're the author, for God's sake. You're meant to be distinguished."

"Yeah, but I'm not meant to stick out like a sore thumb either, Thom. Kyan's walkin' around here somewhere with his shirt open and stuff, you're in jeans -"

"But they're _dark_ jeans," Thom pointed out.

"I figured there'd be someone...I don't think I like my speech, either."

"Maybe you should have a drink, Ted."

"I've _had_ a drink. I thought I'd loosen up." Ted switched his speech to his left hand and brushed at his forehead with the back of his wrist. The room wasn't particularly warm, but Ted was already sweating, his forehead gone glossy, his hair turning damp. "I bet this never happened to Jamie Oliver. He never had to wear a suit to his book launch."

"Well, it's Jamie Oliver, Ted. He doesn't need to wear _anything_."

"Don't do that."

"What, make you smile?"

"Exactly." Ted ran a hand over his face. "I'm tryin' to problem-solve here - oh God. How's my breath?"

"Is that like a huge thing, too?"

"I just don't want to get up in front of the twelve thousand people in this room and waft Riesling fumes all over. It'd probably get written up that I passed out or threw up on somebody or something."

"How close are you planning to get to everyone? I mean, if you're, like, lying on top of them and blowing in their face, maybe..."

"I don't know, that could happen. I could snap, Thom. I could get up and just snap and go crazy in front of everyone. I wish someone else could do this for me. I liked it better when I was with you guys. Let everyone else just blather away."

"It's going to be fine," Thom said.

"My hair's all sweaty."

"It looks fine. Let's get Kyan over here to confirm."

Ted shook his head. "Oh, no. I don't...Kyan can wear anything and look _perfect_, Thom."

"So what's that got to do with you?"

Ted just looked miserably at him. "My stomach hurts. I want to go home and watch Law &amp; Order."

Thom pushed the sweaty hair away from Ted's forehead. "_Relax_. I'll go around the room and tell everyone how cute and adorable you are, how's that?"

"Yeah, what's the punchline to that one, Thom? I know you're dying to make a joke at my expense right now."

"No, I'll save it for later."

"Great."

"Ted. C'mere."

"No."

"Come on, Ted." Thom rubbed his shoulder, then carefully brushed out the wrinkles in the suit fabric. "You're going to be fine. You're Martha Stewart without the prison record."

"I'm sorry," Ted said. "I'm kind of, well."

"Yeah, it's okay."

"Think you can stay where I can see you when I have to do this? Just for as long as the speech takes?"

"I don't know, Ted, that's kind of a lot to ask." Thom laughed. "Left corner okay with you?"

"I think that would be fine."

"Right."

"Thanks." Ted touched his arm gently. "I guess I should go do this."

"Kind of."

"Do I look okay?"

"Wait." Thom smoothed down the lapels of the suit, brought his hand up to rest on the back of Ted's neck. He dropped his forehead to Ted's. "You're okay."

"Yeah," Ted said faintly. He sighed and then started to move through the crowd, smile in place, speech clenched in his fingers. Thom followed after a second, heading towards the left corner of the room.

Ted paused briefly before reaching the front of the room, just as the announcer was tapping on the mike. Thom stood very still, waiting for Ted to catch his eye, ignoring the people brushing by his back. Ted scanned the crowd, very fast, smile gone a little shaky, tilting his head in Thom's direction. Thom waved as unobtrusively as possible.

Ted's eyes went soft behind his glasses, shoulders relaxing. Then he snapped to attention, turning his head back towards the announcer, while Thom, proud and violently nervous, waited for him to meet the crowd.


End file.
